


Exanimo

by Eyp



Category: Merlin (BBC), Merlin (TV)
Genre: BBC Merlin Secret Santa, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5614147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyp/pseuds/Eyp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This-this will take all what he is, sire. It will consume him, until there’s nothing left”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exanimo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ofmagicitself](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ofmagicitself).



> Written for the BBC Merlin Secret Santa 2015 for ofmagicitself. The idea I had for this story got out of control so I decided to write a multi-chapter fic (I'll post the other two chapters soon!).
> 
> I'm sorry for taking so long and I hope you enjoy! (there will be fluff as you wanted, I promise, just bear with me for a while)
> 
> Shout out to my beta inkandwords (H) for coming to my aid when I was panicking (and go read her stuff, it's awesome). You're the best.

**Exanimo**  
_From ex ("out of, from") + animō ("fill with breath or air; enliven, animate")._

**Verb**

  1. I deprive of air or wind; deflate; weaken, exhaust.
  2. I deprive of life, kill, wear out.
  3. _in a passive sense_ \- I am out of breath, am weakened or am exhausted.
  4. _in a passive sense_ \- I am deprived of life, am killed, or am dead.
  5. _figuratively_ \- I deprive of spirit or life; alarm or terrify greatly, stun; agitate, trouble.



* * *

 

Merlin tried, for the hundredth time that day, to pinpoint what made him feel uneasy. The feast had been a success. Arthur had looked content, relaxed even, and the same thing could be said about the guests and servants. Everything had gone as planned, so why did he feel like something was _wrong_?

He sighed and tried-for the hundredth time that day-to ignore the annoying feeling that kept crawling under his skin and made his way to the prince's chambers.

Arthur, unsurprisingly, was still entirely dressed and very much awake.

"What took you so long?” he asked as soon as Merlin set foot on the room.

"The yellow-feather lady- "

"Lady Miriam."

"-wanted to talk about the food".

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Merlin sighed and came to a stop in front of him, beginning to help him out of his cloak and tunic.

"She thought we could change the menu for her. Apparently, the meat wasn't properly cut, properly cooked, properly anything," Merlin summarized, fetching Arthur's sleeping clothes and handing them over. The prince frowned, but the way the corners of his mouth twitched upwards betrayed the expression.

"My question stands:  what took you so long?"

"She had many food related complaints. _Many._ " He stopped beside Arthur's bed. The presents he had received from the different guests and authorities attending the feast had been haphazardly thrown on the mattress. "Who left those here?" he mumbled, picking up some of the carefully wrapped gifts and placing them on the desk before going for the rest.

"That's your job, Merlin."

Merlin sighed.

Arthur stared.

"What?"

"You've been acting weird since morning."

Merlin felt his muscles tense and kept his attention on the mess before him. He needed to pile them up so they wouldn't topple over. "No, I haven't," he assured Arthur, wondering why the prince seemed to notice things every time Merlin didn't have an explanation to offer. Not a reasonable one, at least. He could always say 'I sense something's wrong' or 'apparently my magic is trying to tell me there's danger somewhere, but it could be my imagination'. He _could_.

"Yes, you have".

Merlin put the last gift in place and turned around to see Arthur's gaze on him, formal clothing swapped for his sleeping attire. "No, I haven't. I was worried about-about the feast."

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Arthur asked, walking over to his bed and throwing back the covers to slip inside.

"Yes."

"The feast is over now."

"I'm aware."

"So why are you still worried?" Arthur's eyes narrowed.

Merlin suppressed a groan.

"Residual stress."

"You're making that up."

"I’m not. You should sleep, sire."

Arthur rested his head on the pillow, seemingly giving up on the subject, but Merlin didn't trust his luck. He needed to act normal, whatever that was, if he didn't want Arthur asking questions he didn't have answers to _again_ the next morning.

"Get here earlier tomorrow. We're going hunting."

"Tomorrow? But what about the guests and-?"

"Good night, Merlin. I should sleep, remember? Don't be late."

 _Prat_ , he thought. But there was no force in it. Arthur was more likely retaliating because he hadn't received the answers he wanted. What he didn't know was that he did _not_ want them. At all. "Good night, sire."

* * *

When Merlin awoke next morning, the feeling remained.

He cursed his luck and got up hurriedly.

"Do I even want to know, Merlin?" Gaius asked when he left his room in a rush, muttering under his breath.

"No. No you don't, because there's nothing there to know. Nothing."

And if Gaius had said something else, he didn't hear it because he had to make haste for the kitchens to fetch Arthur's breakfast and get to his room on time.

 _Be grateful for small blessings_ , he thought when he pushed the door of the prince's chambers closed with his hip and noticed that Arthur was still asleep. He left the tray on the bedside table and took a deep breath. The first sunbeams passed through a small gap left between the closed curtains, falling gently on the exposed skin of Arthur's neck. He looked-at peace. And lately, it was a very rare sight-to see the prince not displaying some sign of concern. He was privileged in some way, Merlin mused with his eyes still trained on Arthur, to see him like this. Just the man. Not the prince, not the future king. Just-him.

Merlin pressed his lips together in a thin line and closed his eyes firmly. _No_ , he thought, turning around to open the curtains, letting the first lights of the morning bathe the room in golden colours. _No_ , he repeated, forcing a smile and walking over to Arthur’s sleeping form. "Time to wake up!" he singsonged, deciding he had enough to worry about what with the crawling feeling under his skin and the hunting day ahead. He had neither the time nor the energy to think about the way his heart raced at the sight of Arthur at times. Often. Quite regularly, if he was being honest with himself. But he did not need to be honest with himself right now.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

"What time is it?" Arthur mumbled sleepily, sitting up in bed.

"Not early enough. Are you going to open the presents now?" he asked while making a mental list of things he had to do before Arthur finished his meal.

"Mm. Later, when we get back from-where are you going?"

Merlin stopped mid-stride and glanced at Arthur over his shoulder. "I'm going to get everything ready for the hunt, I thought-"

"No, you're not. Did you have breakfast?"

"...no?"

"Get one of the guards." Arthur waved a hand dismissively and turned to retrieve his breakfast from the bedside table. Merlin blinked at him. "Merlin, I said _get one of the guards_. What are you waiting for?"

"Right," he mumbled, and opened the door to call a guard stationed outside the chambers. He entered, bowed politely, and waited for directions.

"Go down to the kitchens and ask someone to bring a second serving of breakfast," Arthur said, getting up from the bed and walking over to his desk. The guard, clearly more educated than Merlin in court manners-or more inclined to follow them-didn't ask questions and left at once. Merlin turned to stare at Arthur, who was looking crossly at his desk. "Couldn't you have put this somewhere else?" he asked, indicating toward his presents.

"Why-"

"Because I don't like eating on my bed, Merlin. I thought you had managed to retain that small bit of information in that brain of yours after all this time. Clearly, I was wrong."

"No, no that's not-why did you-are you feeling particularly hungry today? Because I'm sure I-"

"You're still acting strange." He held up a hand when Merlin tried to protest. "You _are_ still acting strange. Maybe you’re sick and you haven't even eaten and we're going hunting today. What I'm trying to do here is to make sure you won't faint later today. If you're sleepy and distracted because you skipped breakfast and-god forbid-end up falling from your horse again-"

"That was just one time!"

"-I'm going to leave you there to rot. Understood?"

Merlin stayed very still and ignored his racing heart-second time that day, it was getting ridiculous-in favor of trying to say something. He had been the prince's manservant long enough to know that this was Arthur worrying over him, this was Arthur's passive-aggressive way of telling him to take care of himself.

"Understood?"

He fixed his eyes on Arthur, who was currently holding one of his gifts from the night before-a small wooden box- and looking down at it with a frown.

"But who would clean your boots if you left me to die?" he asked, finally, pretending to be completely oblivious to Arthur's concern and rolling his eyes for good measure.

A shiver ran down his spine. Hell, maybe he _was_ getting sick.

"Anyone would do, Merlin. In fact," Arthur looked briefly at him, smirking, and went back to the inspection of the wooden box, one finger sliding over the carved surface, "people would pay to clean my boots."

Merlin snorted.

"That's pushing it. Even you must realize that, _sire_ -"

His throat closed up and he shivered again. It was-it was the same feeling that had been following him around since yesterday morning, only much, much worse. The hairs at his nape stood on end and he noticed that his hands were shaking. His eyes wandered the room frantically. There was _something_ in the air. In the chambers. Somewhere, there was _something_ and his gut was clenched in pure panic. His senses were screaming at him. Something was _wrong_ , something was very, very wrong.

"'Sire' what, Merlin?"

Merlin tried to stop panicking and looked at him, meeting a pair of worried blue eyes. He swallowed. The danger was still there.

And then, with a click, Arthur opened the box.

Things happened too fast after that for his mind to register the consequences. Later, he would remember the sudden pull of power wrapping around his will, the sudden _need_ to have it in his hands-whatever was inside that box-because it was _his_ , and it was calling him, over and over.

Arthur was in the way, strong hands picking up a simple silver chain, his stare fixed on it with the same intensity that cursed through Merlin veins.

He screamed something-reclaiming what belonged to him-and threw himself forward. Arthur wasn't expecting that, apparently having forgotten there was someone else in the room, but still managed to dodge and look at Merlin with murderous intent right after.

But Merlin had _magic_. He let it flow freely, felt it surge and move at his will. With a flick of his hand Arthur was on the floor, and with another, the chain was in his power. It was still calling for him, still demanding something, again and again and-of course, he had to put it around his neck, that was all, and then he could-he could-

As soon as the cold metal made contact with his skin, the world came back into focus. And he was _burning_.

Before falling to his knees on the floor, he caught a glimpse of Arthur scrambling to his feet, hair disheveled and eyes panicked.

Someone was screaming.

Just when he realized it was _him_ , the world went black.


End file.
